


Mod

by Pouler (poulerslashes)



Series: Drabbles and Shorts [12]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, non-canonical haircuts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:51:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3170483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poulerslashes/pseuds/Pouler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a click, then a crunch, a loud buzz, and Daichi felt unfamiliar air against the side of his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mod

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the artist i-like-to-look-at-your-back.tumblr.com, who draws Daichi a lot with an undercut and I could not approve more.

There was a click, then a crunch, a loud buzz, and Daichi felt unfamiliar air against the side of his head.

"Oh my god," the stylist said. She turned the clippers off and set them down, then turned Daichi’s chair so the mirror was at his back. "Sir," she said in a small voice. "I’m so sorry." It was not the person who usually trimmed his hair but someone new at the salon. She was young, maybe the same age as Tanaka’s sister. Certainly no older than 25. She looked horrified.

"It’s okay," Daichi said. "What happened?"

"The guard broke," she said. ""This has never happened before." Her lips were trembling, and Daichi was terrified she would start crying. "Did I catch your scalp?"

"No. It’s okay," he repeated. Uneasiness sprang up inside him. "It’ll grow back."

She nodded and gave a large sniff. “I’ll let you see,” she said in a wobbly voice. She turned the chair so he faced the mirror.

Daichi leaned closer to the glass and turned his head slightly to get a better look. The stylist had taken a strip out behind his ear that about the width of two fingers, from the base of his hairline nearly halfway up his head. He reached up and touched the buzzed section, felt the soft downy underhair and the skin beneath.

There was a weird sensation in his stomach. Maybe a little like queasiness. Unsettled. He’d had the same haircut since he was six years old.

"I’m sorry," the stylist said again, and her voice was wavering still.

"It’s okay, honestly," Daichi said evenly. "You can just buzz the whole thing." God, he was going to look like Tanaka when it was all done. Daichi fought back a wince of exasperation.

"Thank you so much," she said. "I’m so sorry."

"Please," he said, "don’t worry about it." He was trying very hard to keep the growing frustration out of his voice.

The stylist picked up the clippers again and turned them back on. Daichi watched in the mirror as she started taking off more hair. She started where she had made the mistake, trimmed all along that side, took off his sideburn. She left the top of his head alone while she moved to the other side.

His reflection slowly turned into someone he didn’t recognize. He’d gotten a trim every six weeks of his conscious life. The silhouette of his reflection had always looked much the same. Now with the sides of his head shorn close to his scalp and the crown still shaggy, he looked like someone else.

The stylist paused behind him with the clippers still in hand. In the mirror, he saw her expression shift from shameful resignation to curious scrutiny. She regarded the back of his head intensely, looked hard at the short sides and full top.

"What is it?" he asked.

She almost jumped in place. Her eyes met his in the mirror. “It’s nothing. I just…” She looked at his head again. “Are you sure you want me to cut it all?”

Daichi looked at his reflection again, the unfamiliar contour of his head. “What else can you do?” he asked.

She turned off the clippers. “Let me grab a magazine.”

~

As Daichi walked home, he noted that the sides of his head felt cool despite the warm air of early fall. He reached up and touched his head for about the hundredth time, felt the soft buzz on the sides and the thick hair on his crown. It was so different. It didn’t feel like his head at all.

He’d been apprehensive at first. He was sure it was going to look ridiculous. A high taper, his stylist had called it. It was the same cut he’d seen on a lot of soccer players at the World Cup, with the closely trimmed sides and back, and a little shag falling over his forehead. He’d picked it out of the magazine himself, thinking it looked fairly neat and tame next to all the other undercut styles – and for a moment, when she turned his chair around so he could see the finished cut in the mirror, he’d been almost… excited. But now, on the walk home, doubt was creeping in again.

He began to wonder how the team would react. Certainly Tanaka and Nishinoya would love it. Put the three of them in a row and they’d look pretty stupid. Throw Asahi in there and they’d have their own little gang of delinquents. Daichi was sure they’d look intimidating for all of about ten seconds, until Tanaka pulled a face, Nishinoya opened his mouth, and Asahi inevitably crumpled. Suga had always teased him about having the haircut of an old man. But he was still young, right? And it was his last year of high school. Maybe it was okay to look a little young for once.

Actually. Daichi stopped walking. He felt a little tickle of trepidation return. What was his dad going to say? Or would the old man even notice? Daichi touched his head again. It really was ridiculous, wasn’t it? He was mad at himself for a moment, mad that he had given in to the brief temptation of nonconformity. Then the anger passed, and he decided to go back and get the full buzz. At least it was an easy fix. And at least no one saw the result of his momentary absurdity.

Daichi turned on the spot to return the way he’d come. When he lifted his eyes up the road he saw Suga at the top of the hill staring down at him.

Daichi felt his stomach sink. Oh, this was  _perfect_. Of all the people to see it. He slowly climbed the hill. Suga still seemed to be rooted to the spot. Was it that shocking? Did it look that terrible? As he approached, Daichi tried for a repetant grin. “Hey Suga,” he said.

Suga didn’t respond. He was staring at Daichi with an unreadable expression. He had been carrying a plastic shopping bag in one hand, and it slowly slipped from his lax fingers. A couple of cans and a bottle of water rolled out of the bag across the ground.

Daichi noted this reaction with some concern. “That bad, huh?” When Suga’s silence continued, he prompted,”Su–”

Suga cut him off when he reached forward and touched Daichi’s head with both hands. Daichi jumped at the suddenness of the movement, but Suga’s hands were gentle, his touch soft against the sides of Daichi’s head. He wasn’t looking at Daichi’s face. His eyes were fixed upward.

It was an odd sensation. Daichi’s scalp still felt sensitive and new, and he fought back a shiver. A prickling feeling curled down the back of his head, down his neck and spine. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, his stomach clenching. He watched Suga’s face without speaking.

After a moment, Suga’s eyes cast down and met Daichi’s. He blinked, then looked suddenly embarrassed. They were very close together. “Oh, uh,” Suga said. He dropped his hands and backed away a step. “Sorry,” he said, “you surprised me.” Plain as day, perfectly calm, as though he had not just rubbed Daichi’s head without even saying hello.

Daichi’s stomach was still turning over in his gut, but he managed to keep his voice steady. “I surprised  _you_?” he asked in disbelief.

Suga chuckled nervously in response.

"Does it really look that bad?" Daichi asked quietly.

"No, it’s not that." Suga bent and gathered up his groceries. He looked uncharacteristically shy.

Suga was blushing. He was actually blushing. Daichi realized this with no small amount of bewilderment. He rubbed his neck self-consciously. “I was on my way to get it all cut off,” he admitted.

"Don’t!" Suga said quickly, then he cleared his throat and said evenly, "No, it suits you."

"Really?"  
  
Suga nodded. His larynx bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. “I think you should keep it,” he told the ground between them.

The bewildered feeling grew. Daichi had rarely seen Suga look so meek. “You don’t think it’s too–” Daichi fought for the proper description. “Too much like something Nishinoya would do?”

Suga blinked at him, then burst into laughter. It was a musical sound that Daichi felt dance up his spine. He felt himself grin in return. Suga started to look like himself again, and the awkward sensation inside Daichi lessened.

"Like Nishinoya–!" Suga laughed. He cradled his face in one hand. "Oh, Daichi."

"C’mon," Daichi said through his smile, "It’s not a completely irrational worry."

Suga wiped the corner of his eye with his knuckle. “Daichi, I don’t think anyone would mistake you and Nishinoya for sharing a similar aesthetic.” He looked up at Daichi’s head again. “It’s good, it–” He cleared his throat again. Daichi noticed his ears were red. “It makes you look strong, I think.”

 _Strong_. Somehow the way that Suga had said the word didn’t make him feel very strong at all, but rather a bit weak-kneed instead. “You think so?” he asked.

"Yeah." Suga nodded. "Maybe a bit… imposing?" He quickly added, "but not in a bad way!" and Daichi realized he must have pulled a face. Suga laughed again, a little awkwardly. "I don’t know!" he admitted. "But it looks good, Daichi. It looks  _really_ good.”

Daichi felt himself blushing now. “Suga, that’s too much.”

"Sorry, sorry," Suga said. He was smiling like he wasn’t sorry at all.

There was a beat of silence between them, then Suga looked at the bag in his hand. “I’d better go,” he said, “my mom wanted me to bring a few things she needed to make dinner.”

"Okay," Daichi said. "I’ll see you tomorrow, then."  
  
"See you," Suga echoed. He started to step around Daichi so he could continue down the road, but he stopped abruptly when they were standing side-by-side.

"Daichi," he said quietly.

Daichi looked at him curiously. “What is it?”

Suga was quiet. He looked at the ground. At length he asked softly, “would you keep it?” He raised his eyes and looked straight at Daichi. “For me?”

Daichi didn’t know what to say to that at all. He felt his mouth open wordlessly.

"Well!" Suga said abruptly. He shifted his bag in his hand. "See you tomorrow!" Then he started walking so fast it that he was almost jogging, and he was down the hill and around a corner before Daichi was even able to react.

He stood there a moment longer, staring at the path where Suga had disappeared. Daichi turned slightly and caught sight of himself in a shop window.  _Strong_ , Suga had said, _imposing_. Well, those weren’t bad things. He still felt a little ridiculous, but maybe he’d try it out for a few days at least.  
  
As he turned back toward home a slight breeze ruffled though, and the air was cool against his head. Daichi thought about how warm Suga’s hands had been against the close-cropped sides, the feeling of Suga’s palms over the buzzed hair and smooth skin. He thought of the way Suga had looked at him before he’d caught himself.

He felt suddenly warm all over. Yeah, Daichi thought. A few days couldn’t hurt.


End file.
